Faith
by whitesheepcbd
Summary: An important conversation that doesn't go as planned.


**A/N: I found this recently while organizing my fic folders. I think it was a false start to "Careful the Wish" which is also posted on this site. I decided with a few hundred more words and some polishing, this could work well as a short stand-alone piece. Enjoy!**

* * *

No tux was meant to be worn this long. Not all night while its wearer wandered the city, lost in thought, in turmoil, unsure whether to go home. Unsure of the welcome he might receive if he did. It occurred to him that anyone who saw him, in a wrinkled tux just past dawn, wandering the sidewalks with his head down unwilling to meet the eyes of passersby…..those people might well think he'd been partying all night, that he'd cheated on his spouse and now was doing the walk of shame back home to beg forgiveness. That couldn't be further from the truth. He'd never cheat on Kurt. But he did need to beg forgiveness. He wasn't even sure for what, but felt in a vaguely unsettling way that the fight last night was his fault. He was the one who was balking. They'd talked about this before. They'd agreed that they weren't ready before, but yes, they definitely wanted it one day.

Apparently, 'one day' had arrived for Kurt. And it wasn't till he announced it, so sure of himself, so happy and eager, that Blaine felt the bottom drop out and was overtaken by an irrational knee-jerk reaction of no, no, no….I can't.

The timing couldn't have been worse, with the conversation happening right before his company's end of year mixer and awards ceremony. They'd arrived late and been awkward with each other all evening, one of the more painful social events in his memory. The fight had resumed, almost as if the intervening hours hadn't happened, in the cab home. Blaine had gotten out before they reached home, unwilling to keep arguing in front of their driver, though if anyone's seen it all it's a New York cabbie.

Kurt probably had no idea what he was starting, Blaine had realized at some point during the night. After his fifth cup of coffee at an all-night diner on 46th Street, he'd started wandering aimlessly. He discovered that his phone had died around 1:00 am, but prior to that…no contact from Kurt at all. And well, after fourteen years married to the man, he knew well that it took more than a couple hours for Kurt to calm down from one of their fights. He just wish he knew if Kurt had tried to contact him. It would give him an idea of what to expect when he got home.

He was almost there, having walked all night from midtown, detouring to meander on the High Line, which included an hour long stop on a bench where he suspected he'd fallen asleep for a while. That was the only sleep he'd gotten all night and he was light-headed now with exhaustion.

Turning onto their street, childish laughter carried from the corner and his heart twisted. Unable to stop himself, he walked past the door of the brownstone he shared with Kurt to the small playground frequented by the children of the neighborhood.

A girl, maybe about six? He wasn't sure. He didn't spend enough time around kids to feel accomplished at estimating their ages. She was running for the swings, as a man behind her set a diaper bag on the bench. A baby was strapped to his chest like a koala and he patted absently at it, glancing over to where Blaine leaned on the fence. The girl adeptly hopped backwards onto a swing and began to pump her legs.

"Daddy, Daddy!" she called, and Blaine's heart twisted. "Help me! I want to go high!"

"Hold on, sweetie." He looked down, checking the baby before walking over and giving gentle pushes to the girl's back.

"Higher, Daddy!"

"Okay, but you have to hold on tight!" He gave her a harder push, and now she was starting to really fly, her little legs swinging back and forth to help her along. The dad backed up to avoid being hit as she swung back, the apex of the motion taking her almost as high as his head. "Got it now, sweetie?" he asked.

"Uh-huh!"

And boy, did she ever. She leaned far back as she swung forward, till her body was almost parallel to the ground, had she stayed still long enough to measure the angles. Her straight blonde hair whipped out behind her. At the height of her forward swing there was the tiniest bit of slack in the swing's chains, holding her suspended in the air for the barest second before she came back down, the dad admonishing her again to hold tight, be careful…..but Blaine had never seen anyone more fearless in his life.

Had he ever been that fearless? It was hard to remember. It seemed he'd always had this anxiety simmering inside him. That he wouldn't be good enough, that he'd screw up, that he'd let down the people he loved the most. He'd always had to fight back the whispering voices in the dark, that mocked him and said all the successes of his life had been a fluke.

Blaine emerged from his thoughts, realizing that the dad was looking over his shoulder at him again, this time with a less-than-friendly look. Oh god, he was an adult without a kid, lurking around a kids' playground. He was pretty sure that was frowned upon. He gave a small wave to the dad, putting on his most charming smile.

"Sorry, just putting off going home. Stayed out all night," he gestured to his wrinkled tux, "and pretty sure I'm in for an earful when I go inside."

He nodded and Blaine thought he saw a hint of a smile before he turned back to his kids.

No use putting it off any longer. Blaine pushed off the fence and walked the half block to their apartment building. He tried to compose some sort of speech in his head as he rode the elevator up, with the old machine doing the customary groaning and squealing which never inspired confidence. He wasn't feeling too confident about the next thirty minutes himself. Surprise, surprise, went his sarcastic inner critic.

The fact was, he didn't even know which speech he should be preparing till he saw what kind of mood Kurt was in. After nearly twenty-five years together and eighteen of those years spent married, Blaine knew his husband. And the one thing he knew about Kurt Hummel, above all, was that he would never know everything about Kurt Hummel. He would never be able to predict with 100% accuracy how he'd react to a situation, or what mood he might be in this morning after a fight last night.

The doors groaned open on their floor and he sighed as he stepped out, still not sure he could articulate to Kurt why they'd gotten into a fight last night. His key turned in the lock and he stepped in quietly, looking around their tiny apartment. It only took him about half a second to find Kurt, asleep on the couch in what looked like a very uncomfortable position. His fingers, wrapped around his cell phone, twitched and his lips gave a tiny, adorable smack in his sleep as he turned his head, pressing his face against the back cushions.

Blaine closed and locked the door quietly, and dropped his keys on one of the hooks they'd placed adjacent before tiptoeing over and perching gingerly on the couch next to his sleeping husband. He took his hand, gently prying the cell phone out and setting it aside, then stroked the back of his hand as he called his name softly.

Kurt's hand tightened in his but he only turned his face deeper into the cushion, in the way of someone trying to ignore the alarm clock and grab just five more minutes of sleep. Blaine knew exactly when he woke enough to realize he was there, and why that was more significant than most mornings. A subtle tensing in the body he knew so well, a change in breathing…..and a pause before Kurt's eyes opened and he turned to blink at Blaine.

"Hi," Blaine offered.

"Where were you?" he whispered. "I called you all night."

"My phone died," he answered, almost as soft. He was hesitant to disturb the quiet. "Sorry. I was just….walking around the city all night."

"By yourself? And you couldn't have borrowed someone else's phone to call home, just let me know you were ok? Do you know what happens to people who wander this city alone at night, Blaine?" His voice was rising in pitch and volume as he woke up. "I worried all night! When you turn your phone back on, you'll see about a hundred missed calls!"

"I know. I'm sorry. I just….I wasn't even sure what we fought about last night, and I wasn't sure I could explain to you why I reacted the way I did, and…." He shrugged. "I think I was trying to work it out while I walked."

A long silence, while the city rumbled by five stories below and Blaine focused on his fingers stroking Kurt's hand.

"Did you? Work it out?" Kurt asked finally.

"Yeah. Do you think-" He looked up. "Maybe we can sit down with some coffee and bagels, and discuss it over breakfast?"

"Alright. I need to wash my face anyway, before I can have a coherent conversation." He started to get up, but Blaine stopped him by taking his face in his hands for a soft, lingering kiss. "Blaine, I haven't brushed my teeth," he protested, trying to cover his mouth.

"Don't care," he said, kissing him again. "I love you. I'm sorry we fought last night." He pulled back to look him straight in the eyes. "I'm ready to talk about it if you are."

Kurt nodded. "Just give me five minutes in the bathroom."

"I'll get the coffee started."

A short time later, having both taken time to freshen up and change into comfortable sweats and t-shirts, they were settled at the table.

Kurt was taking his time to spread low-fat cream cheese on a bagel so it was evenly distributed on both sides.

"I want you to know," he said, not looking up, "that I didn't mean to start an argument last night. If I'd expected that, I never would have brought it up right before that dinner."

"I know. To be honest, I didn't know I would react that way, till I did."

"So what happened, Blaine?" He didn't sound angry, just curious. "We've talked about this before."

"I know. It's just…" He sighed. "Before, it was always something hypothetical. Kids were something that we planned to have one day, in the far distant future. And then, last night, you started talking about being dads as a definite thing that we were doing really soon, and I just….I freaked out."

"Blaine honey, I turn 40 next year. You'll turn 40 the year after that. How much longer did you think we would wait?"

"I know, I know….I guess I'm in denial about a lot of things."

"We should have started the process sooner, really. We probably would have last year, except for my Dad."

"Last year was rough," Blaine agreed, not wanting to dwell on how close they'd come to losing Burt Hummel. The man was more of a dad to him than his own father had ever been, and when the call came in the middle of the night Blaine wasn't sure if he could hold it together for Kurt, who surely had more reason to fall apart than he himself did.

"I had time to think too, while you were gone last night," Kurt said, reaching out to place his hand over Blaine's. "You asked me then, why now?"

He nodded, waiting for elaboration.

"It's partially because of my dad. He's never pressured me or anything, but I know he wants grandkids. If….well, if Finn had lived he might have had kids by now. But as it is…" Kurt swallowed, still unable to mention his brother without getting emotional, even after all these years. "It kind of has to be us or no one, doesn't it?"

"Yeah. I get it," Blaine admitted. And oh, how he enjoyed making Burt Hummel proud of him. And Carole would be the consummate grandmother, spoiling their kids rotten. He could just see her in a rocking chair with a baby on her lap.

"And I don't want you to think that I brought it up only because of my Dad. We _have_ talked about kids before, and I thought we were on the same page. So…why the hesitation now?"

"I had time to think last night too," Blaine admitted. "And I think, sometime before dawn, I finally admitted the truth to myself." He could feel his husband's tension in the hand still on his own. "I'm...scared, Kurt."

"Alright." He sat back in his seat, and asked in a neutral tone that might not bode well, "What are you afraid of, exactly?"

"I'm scared of all of it," he admitted, picking his coffee cup up and holding it under his nose to breathe in the aroma, confessing to the coffee because it was easier. "I'm terrified of being a dad, because I'm not sure I know how to be one. It's not like my own dad gave me such a sterling example to follow. And it's not like we get rehearsals for this. We don't get a hundred chances to get it right before it counts. And this is important, Kurt." He set his cup down and turned to face him, willing him to understand. "This is another human being we're talking about here, and when we screw up it's not like we're only hurting ourselves." He could hear his own voice getting more hysterical, till Kurt reached over to squeeze his hand again. Blaine forced himself to stop, to take a breath, to focus. "Ten years ago, when it was all so far away, it was easy to say I wanted kids. But last night, when you sounded so sure of yourself, all I could think was that I'd never been less sure of anything in my life."

"Honey, I want to be sure I understand. It's not that you don't want kids, but that you're afraid you won't be a good dad?"

He nodded without looking up, focusing instead on his bagel that he hadn't yet put anything on or even sliced in half, and heard Kurt let out his breath with a whoosh. "Oh my God, I thought you didn't want to have kids at all, and I just didn't know how I was going to deal with it. I could never leave you, but I thought it might tear us apart if we disagreed, and…..whew." He leaned forward to give him a hug, which Blaine resisted.

"Didn't you hear me, Kurt? I don't think I can do it. I don't even know how to start."

"But…I've seen you with kids. You get right out on the playground with them and play, you never have any trouble relating to them, why would you think you won't make a good dad?"

"Playing with kids for five minutes is one thing. It hardly teaches me how to be a dad. I told you, no one ever showed me how. I was raised by nannies till I went away to Dalton, Kurt. And then, I had my friends there for support, till I met you. And then, it was like you and I grew up together. But looking back, I just don't have the memories of my parents raising me that everyone else seems to have. They just weren't around that much."

"Aren't you forgetting a couple people?" Kurt asked.

"Who?" He was pretty sure he remembered who'd raised him—and who hadn't.

"My dad. Carole. Don't you think you've learned a few lessons from them about how to be a parent?"

"Burt and Carole are great, I couldn't have asked for better in-laws. But I didn't meet them till I was sixteen, Kurt. What do I do when some nurse hands me a newborn baby, that's totally depending on me—on us—for everything? I don't know how to do that!" Kurt was chuckling to himself, which infuriated Blaine in that instant. "You think this is funny? You're not even taking this seriously!" He shoved back from the table and tried to leave the kitchen, but only got two strides away before Kurt caught his wrist and stood up, swinging him around in a hug.

"Shh, it's okay," Kurt soothed into his hair. "Just let me hold you a moment, try to relax." It took conscious effort to bring his arms up and return the hug, but he did, and tried to tell his tense body to let go. "I'm taking this seriously, I promise," Kurt whispered.

Blaine nodded against his neck, feeling foolish now for his outburst. It took several moments of holding on to Kurt, breathing in the scent of his hair—smelling less of product than usual, since Kurt hadn't done his full morning routine—before Blaine could feel the hummingbird rhythm of his heart start to slow.

"Sorry I overreacted," he mumbled. "But I'm on the verge of a panic attack here, and you're laughing at me."

Kurt leaned back so they could see each other, running soft fingers down Blaine's arm till he took his hands, holding them loose between them.

"Blaine, I was laughing because to me, the idea of you being anything less than an amazing father is just….it's something I can't even imagine."

"But I don't know how-"

"Is it the logistics of caring for a child that you're worried about?" Kurt interrupted. "If that's it, well…this is New York City, Blaine. There's a class for everything. We'll take parenting classes, we'll read books, we'll ask our friends who already have kids for advice. If you want rehearsals, maybe we can even offer to babysit for a couple of them….can you imagine how fast some of them would agree to their kids being guinea pigs, just so they can get an evening alone? This is hardly going to happen tomorrow, sweetheart. It's going to take time to plan. We have time to learn how to change diapers, and make home-made baby food, and baby-proof the apartment. We have time for all of that."

Blaine took a breath, which was a little easier now that his concerns were being addressed seriously. "The logistics are part of it," he admitted, "but not all of it."

"Okay." Kurt looked at him steadily, all focused attention and not a hint of humor in his eyes.

"I…." He didn't know how to say this. He closed his eyes, unable to look at his husband. "I'm afraid that I won't be able to love them." His voice cracked and his breath shuddered out as he finally voiced it.

Silence followed his announcement. He waited, his hands still loosely gripped in Kurt's, for his reaction. Which was more silence. Unable to bear the suspense any longer, Blaine finally peeked from under his lashes. Kurt was smiling at him. Not a mocking or sarcastic smile, which he knew his husband was fully capable of, but more like that first smile of the morning, like he couldn't be more pleased to wake up beside Blaine _again_ after twenty-odd years together.

"There you are," Kurt said, soft and playful as if Blaine hadn't just admitted to doubting his ability to do the first and most important thing any parent should do for their kid. Blaine blinked in confusion.

"Did you hear me, Kurt? I said-"

"Yes, I heard you." Calm as a warm night in, snuggled under blankets while a snowstorm covered the city outside. "Now I want you to hear me." He placed gentle fingertips on Blaine's face, not letting him look away. "Your ability to love our children is the one thing I don't worry about. You are the most generous and loving person I've ever met, sometimes too much so—don't you remember us having to set boundaries the first time we moved in together? I don't know why you think you'll have any problem-"

"Because my parents never loved me!" Blaine burst out. "Or at least, they never showed it." This last said in a mumble as he tried to look down, but Kurt was having none of it, raising his chin again.

"You are not your parents. You are yourself, a caring and affectionate man that I am proud to call my husband. And I just know that you are going to smother our kids with so much love that they'll come running to me, the strict daddy, to get you to back off a little. You..are going to be…amazing," Kurt said with finality, sealing his proclamation with a kiss on the end of Blaine's nose.

Blaine sighed, still not entirely rid of that nagging voice of doubt in the back of his mind, which always seemed to speak in his dad's voice.

"I wish I had your faith," he whispered, trying to summon up a smile.

"How about if I have faith for both of us? At least to start?"

Blaine felt his smile grow more real as he nodded. Kurt had always had more faith in Blaine than he'd had in himself, and he'd learned to rely on him when he doubted himself.

"Any other concerns?" Kurt asked.

Blaine thought a moment. "Only about a thousand," he said ruefully.

"And we'll tackle them one by one," Kurt said, unruffled. "We've always been a team, Blaine. We've always taken on whatever the world throws at us, together. And we're going to rock the dads gig."

Where was his confidence coming from, Blaine wondered. Maybe this was what happened when a boy was raised to be a man by Burt Hummel. They should visit Ohio soon, see if maybe it wasn't too late for more of that Hummel Effect to rub off on him.

He took a deep breath, met his husband's eyes, and nodded, getting a wide smile in return.

"So…" Kurt let it hang in the air a moment, still grinning. "We can start talking about _how_ we're going to have our kids? We can buy baby names books and start coveting adorable kids' fashions?"

"I knew it!" Blaine accused. "This was about kid clothes all along. Don't think I haven't noticed you window-shopping!" His heart was light again, finally, for the first time since last night.

"You caught me." Kurt held his hands up in mock surrender, then draped them over Blaine's shoulders, pulling him close again for a hug.

"Sure you want to start this?" Blaine asked, voice muffled with his face pressed against Kurt's neck. "I mean, if I freaked out this much from the thought of kids…"

"Oh honey, freak out all you want." Blaine could hear the smile in his voice. "Until the first time we have to take a kid to the ER, and then it's my turn to freak, and _you_ get to be the calm one."

Blaine pressed his own grin into his husband's shirt, as they stood pressed together in their tiny kitchen in the city they called home, where they'd built a life together. A life that was about to change.

"Deal."

* * *

 **A/N: I'm still writing Glee fanfic, in spite of the series being over for months. This was just a short piece, but I'm working on two longer fics that will both be posted in July. As a reminder, I can also be found on Tumblr and Livejournal, and I've just recently gotten an AO3 account as well, where I plan to post any new fics from this point. I'm whitesheepcbd on all my fandom accounts.**


End file.
